


All That She Wants

by lost_spook



Series: 50 Ficlets - Claim Kenny Phillips, Press Gang [8]
Category: Press Gang
Genre: Community - 50ficlets, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-04
Updated: 2010-12-04
Packaged: 2017-10-13 12:34:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/137389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_spook/pseuds/lost_spook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lynda’s not the only female on the Gazette staff who’ll resort to shameless manipulation to get what she wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All That She Wants

**Author's Note:**

> Written for 50ficlets prompt 'touch me'.

The talk in the newsroom was that Sam Black had a different guy for every day of the week.

It was most likely Sam herself who’d started the rumour, but Kenny could easily believe it. What was more difficult to get his head round – to begin with, anyway – was why she kept sitting on _his_ desk, but he worked it out quickly enough. Obvious, really. What else was a girl like Sam doing, batting her eyelashes at him?

“What is it this time?” he asked, on finding her there again.

Sam raised her eyebrows, as she propped herself against the end of his desk in a white sun-dress, her blonde curly hair covered by a hat only she could get away with. “You think I’m after something, just because I come over here, being friendly -.”

“And ruffling my hair, and telling me you like my shirt. Yeah. What this time?”

She turned. “I still didn’t ruffle your hair, Kenny.”

“One of these days,” he told her, with a grin.

She shook her head and then put out a hand to mess up his hair briefly, close enough to do it without difficulty. “Impressed now?”

“Actually, now I think I need a mirror,” he said, trying to tidy it again.

Sam smiled. “Don’t worry. You look cute.”

“Now I _know_ I need a mirror,” he muttered, alarmed.

She rolled her eyes. “I hope you appreciate the effort I’m putting in here. There are a queue of guys who’d fight you for the privilege. Some of them would _die_ for it.”

“Well, worse things have happened,” he returned, but some smugness crept in. “So: what is it? Extend the graphics office into a beauty parlour, or a week off?”

Sam said, “No, just Monday. I’ve got plans.”

“I think Monday can be managed,” he said, and attempted to return to his work.

She saw him as a soft touch, which he was. It was probably written in his job description. At least with Sam he got something out of it. Other people only pleaded or begged him to negotiate with Lynda. It didn’t really take anything more, but he didn’t feel inclined to tell Sam that. Flirting and hair ruffling was a nice extra, if maybe a bit distracting.

She hadn’t gone.

He looked back up, a frown on his face. “Sam, there’s nothing I can do about getting you a sunbed. I’ve told you.”

“No,” she said, “but you know what would make Monday even better, don’t you?”

His frown deepened. This was new territory, and he was lost. “What’s that, then?”

“If you took it off as well,” she said, and, before she finally slipped off his desk and back into the graphics department, the carefully-practised smile she darted at him was devastating.

Kenny stared after her.

Whatever Sam was after this time, he thought worriedly, it must be bad.

The idea that what she was after was _him_ never even crossed his head.


End file.
